Getting Cold
by Starlight Dream Weaver
Summary: The promises that eventually melted away like morning frost, barely there, barely remembered but a glimmer of hope that somewhere there was a winter.
1. Getting Cold

Author's notes: Been on… a vacation. This is Chapter One, hope you enjoy and Feedback is welcome. The next few parts might be a while so hang in there. Just a little trip into a… trip… of sorts. Gone back to a good ol' era of ER with a little Mark and Romano in for fun. Will be Kerry centric.

Rating/Summery/Spoilers/Blah: PG-15 for drug references and some violence to come, no such spoilers as of yet, let you know if any pop up, we're talking way back before spoiler Mark and Romano died spoiler will obviously be dark and depressing, angsty, dramatic, violent and disturbing.

_The promises that eventually melted away like morning frost, barely there, barely remembered but a glimmer of hope that somewhere there was a winter._

Thanks: Metz the Beta from Hell, K for all the P, G and A and sometimes the N, T, B and F nodwinkcoughsplutterpassout, STE for inspiration and the wondrous knowledge from your stoned self that miraculously translates into some beauty that will get found, keep the peace dude xoxo

**_Getting Cold_**

Moving the joint closer to the candle, her fingers slightly black already from the numerous amounts of times she had tried to resuscitate the now sad looking mixture of green and tobacco, she sighed slightly. She knew that the tip would refuse to glow, but she still sucked back on the end of the joint, only to be rewarded with a mouth full of tobacco. Coughing, her fingers scrambling to her mouth, shaking with the effects of the trip, she pulled the long strands from her mouth, unable to control her features contorting into a look of absolute disgust, she couldn't help but laugh.

Alone in her townhouse, in the middle of the night, listening to jazz, getting stoned and not giving a damn.

Earlier that day she had treated a patient who had insisted on sparking up a fatty during a treatment for the pain. And being the good little doctor she was, she had immediately confiscated it and taken it home where she had proceeded to roll and smoke most it. She had been overly smug over the fact it was over an ounce of some of the finest green she had ever smoked.

And more so over the fact that no one would suspect that it had been her, Kerry Stuck-up Weaver who had taken it and smoked herself into one of the best highs of her life.  
She hadn't been this stoned since she was 19. A slightly sorrowful feeling passed through her, letting her know that she probably wouldn't ever get the chance to be this stoned again either.

Pain free bliss and sleepiness washed over her, confusing her into a nauseas stomach tie. The walls were much more yellow than before. The room so much colder and the day had passed by seemingly unnoticed.  
Darkness has crept into every fibre of her being; she was a stoner of the night. A creature looking for a shiny object to stare at for hours on end until the trip was finished. Her mouth was dry, turned into cotton wool at some point. Countless numbers of sweet drinks has passed her lips yet the dryness was starting to be accompanied with a growing warm feeling on the back of her neck or the very far of her throat, she couldn't quite make a difference between the two. A warm feeling that was growing with hot intensity every passing second, letting her know vomit was premiering on things to clear up tomorrow list.

Stumbling her hand forward, shaking like an addict with one two many withdrawal symptoms she grabbed blindly for the can of pop in front of her. What on earth it was, she couldn't tell, could have been cola, could have been root beer, could have been that such misunderstood drink, could have been anything. All she knew was that it was going forth into battle with her throat, battling the bile back down with every stream she gulped back.

So far she had managed to smoke more weed in the passing hours than a professional stoner ever would in their entire lifetime. And she wasn't stopping. Despite the clock informing her that work was merely hours away, she didn't care.

Why should she? No one else gave a damn. There was a life out there somewhere; perhaps by smoking herself into a dreaming din of the world, she'd find it. The life promised to her throughout her feverous sleeps of her life. The promises that eventually melted away like morning frost, barely there, barely remembered but a glimmer of hope that somewhere there was a winter. Somewhere there was her life.

Hands fumbling like an alcoholic in a change purse, she deftly rolled yet another joint, hunched over like a mad typist, working on some brand new novel, bound to bring them fame and glory yet reeking of the depression that accompanied the writing. No matter how hard you worked, you'd never get over eating beans cold from a can in your pyjamas while watching Star Trek in the vain hope that inspiration was merely on holiday and sending a post card or knocking on the door with your saviour, your beautiful written word, Transcribing a page from blank to glory. The failures behind the success were always a shadow.  
The shadow for Kerry then and there was the amount of missed tobacco that was flung in every direction on the floor during her cold convulsions when the stone set in. She cursed in a whisper as she noticed the pale mint green colours of the crushed green that was taking up residence in a small pile next to her sofa.

Settling backwards into the sofa, she lit and started again. Sucking it back to the point of explosion and releasing at the point of suffocation.

The next day she would wake up still clothed and in her makeup, lying in a position that can only be described as so painful must be completely passed out in order to accomplish. Her lipstick smeared down her face from the amounts of joints dragged down her chin from the inevitable mid stone naps that caught her off guard every time. Her hand sliding further and further down, her head aiming for her floor as she began the wonderful journey to passed out land. And each one resulted in a some what manic lipstick smudge; her mascara had made rivers of dried black down her cheeks. Had she been crying? Her eyes felt like it, her face looked like it; she didn't feel it in herself though. Her shirt was still attached by one single button straining to jump off to join its fallen comrades down the back of the sofa, one shoe was MIA and her hair resembled a small bird's nest.  
And she was two hours late for work. She could see the answer machine blinking on the desk. Groaning she pulled herself up only to fall mercilessly to the floor, flailing in pure hope of some one magically near by, there to catch her. But as always, she simply fell.  
From the floor, she hear the phone ring again, and the answer machine kick in. She could vaguely hear Mark Greene trying not to be narky but somewhat miffed at her absence. Was she okay? Could she call and let them know where she was? It was then she noticed the date on the clock on the desk. She wasn't two hours late for her shift. She was 26 hours late for her shift.  
The last thing she saw before her head hit the floor again was a shadow banging on the door.

-

-

Review Please!! I Beg Thee!


	2. More Than The Climates Change

**More Than The Climates Change**

Stomping up and down, Carter had three intentions.  
To knock off the excess snow he had picked up on his boots.  
To perhaps regain some of the feeling in the feet that he knew where there by looking, but couldn't feel.  
And to add noise to the knocking and door bell ringing that was being ignored.  
He peered through the frosted glass with squinting eyes in the vain hope that x-ray vision might kick in and he'd be able to see something. But as usual, nothing, only darkness.

Kerry's car was there. The curtains were drawn. No lights were escaped the heavy drapes, so the house must have been in darkness. Where was she?  
He knocked and rang the bell again, this time adding a shout for extra points. Still nothing.

This was the part in the horror film where the hero would knock down the door with one ram of his shoulder, with effortless masculinity. Inside finding the damsel in distress, ride her to safety in his 4x4 jeep and all smiles for a happy ending.

Rubbing his hands together for a few moments he continued to stare at the door as if self-will would magically open the doors. Nothing. He turned to leave as snow began falling again from the sky.  
Even before his brain had registered the door opening, he had turned.

"Carter?" He couldn't answer. He was too busy trying not to let his face show the shock.

"Dr Weaver… I… Kerry… I was worried" _Could I sound any lamer?_

"Go home John" She closed the door.

Dead. She looked dead. Her eyes had disappeared underneath dark circles, her skin so pale, it reminded him of chalk. Her clothes were dishevelled and to be perfectly honest he wasn't sure she wasn't the walking dead. He thought about knocking again, but then thought about being knocked down the steps by her crutch and his decision was made.  
As he drove home, he finally allowed the shock to settle on his face. And it wouldn't be a few days until the picture of her wasn't present with every blink.

He had gone there out of real worry. No one had sent him, but the fact she had missed two shifts with no word had worried the hell out of him. It was so unlike Kerry Weaver it only left two options, she was possessed or dead. And he still couldn't rule those possibilities out. Her appearance only made him question it further.

-

-

Limping into the ER, Kerry fixed her gaze on the floor.

_Don't look up, don't make any sort of contact, you can do this. You can do this. _

"Kerry"

_Shit. Busted._

"So nice that you decided to grace us with your presence at last"

_Piss off Mark. _

He was being smug. Smug for no damn reason. His few final delights of life consisted of getting one over Kerry. He wasn't a bad person for it; he was human, survival of the fittest and all that. In fact he was worried, more so since he had seen her face finally as she moved it upwards slowly to stare at him blankly like a broken soul at the moment of death. One final plea for happiness, of something other than pain, only to sink back into the arms of death.

"You okay?"

"Fine Mark, family emergency, sorry I didn't call"

A family emergency? She was alone wasn't she?

"Everything okay?" His glasses slid down his nose as he tried to get a better look at her face which was avoiding him currently by pointing downwards into her bag which she was pretending was hiding something she desperately needed.

"Yeah, fine, I'll make the hours up" She limped away not noticing Carter watching from the board, debating with himself to follow or pretend she had never shut the door on him. Just like she always did. He watched as she disappeared into the lounge and Mark shook his head and walked away.

_Just get on with it, pretend its all okay. There is more to life than you. More to life than pain. More to you. Just cure the people who need it, cure the sick. _

She signed the chart with a childish indescribable scrawl. You can never read a doctors writing, right? For all she knew Donald Duck just signed off her patient.  
Placing it back in the rack, she reached for another one.  
And then another one. And another. Patient addict.

And then it happened.

She was faintly aware of everything slowing, as though time was beginning to break down. Voices echoing and blurred visions of patients and doctors pushing past. She watched through a fog as a trauma pushed past, Mark guiding the gurney with the paramedics. Lily and Haleh following closely behind as they bustled past.

She closed her eyes briefly, imagining the clouds rolling through a bright blue sky. She could smell the air; she could feel everything and anything. And yet her brain still held onto the reality she hated and feared so much. And before she had a chance to hold onto the dream, it was gone. Black clouds thundering through her paradise, the rain falling, lightning scorching, thunder cracking. It was how it was supposed to be.  
And what made it even worse was she didn't even realise she was falling until she hit the floor. Literally.

"Damn it Carter, eyes open while walking or think about investing in a guide dog"

He was too shocked to say anything as she attempted to pick herself up and limped away. She was a bitch, but when did she become such a… well a bitch.

"Carter are you coming or not?" Not removing his gaze from Kerry's limping form, he made his way towards Mark. Thinking. Wondering. Worrying.

-

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Review and let me know how bad it is........


	3. Stranded on this Island

Author's notes: Been doing some research on this one (does sitting around getting completely stoned and getting the munchies count? It better do…) hence the gap in chapters… That and I have a life.

Stranded On This Island

She could almost feel the sea lapping against her as she sat in a cloud of smoke. The way the sand looked, the way the sky looked, the beautiful blue sea, the way it felt.  
She could feel the sun burning her from above, her sunglasses sliding down her nose with sun tan lotion.

Only she wasn't there. She was in her house. Getting stoned. Again.

The world was already beginning to shake and wobble like a hand held camera video. Jumping in between frames of her vision and blackness floated the world of reality, distorted but so peaceful, so beautiful, so how it should be.

Like a photograph desperately trying to make you remember the moment as much as possible by showing you everything it possibly can with all its might. Shining through spots of colour to make you return there. A flick book of life.

_White liiiiines…_

She couldn't get the damn song out of her head. The more she tried, the more it stuck.

_Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh… Get higher baby…Ahhhhhhhhhhh… Get higher baby… Free base!_

She tried to sing more songs in a vain hope it would leave, only to make things worse. Instead of The Sound Of Music, or a variation of shows she had thought of in a instant to be entirely more annoying, therefore a good choice, she was stuck with White Lines. And it wasn't leaving.

_Christ, I'm not that bad…_

No way had she fallen down the lines of being incredibly hungry and incredibly dopey, to be completely fucked beyond any identification.

She hadn't found herself in the land of Charlie yet, nor would she. Her eyes darted around quickly, repeating the words out loud just making sure everyone heard, only to repeat herself once more, suspicious that the television wasn't listening and that the book case had been whispering in hushed giggles to the desk.

Satisfied it was all taken in; she nodded matter-of-factly to herself and the room, before promptly dosing off into her chest. Which as her body weight shifted, soon landed with a thud to the floor under the coffee table.

-

-

_Beep-Beep Beep-Beep Beep-Beep…_

_Pager. My Pager. Where the hell is it?_

Lifting her head like a ton of bricks, she decided this was much too physical and much strenuous and decided to let it drop back to the floor with a painless thud.

_Beep-Beep Beep-Beep Beep-Beep_

_Oh for fucks sake… _

-

-

"Kerry can you take the patient in… Kerry… Kerry!"

_Mark Greene yet again._

"Welcome back"

_What was that? Sarcasm? Worry?_

"As I was saying…"

_And I'm gone again…_

-

-

There's only a certain amount of time before you realise how unfair life and everything attached to it, is beyond unfair, into just damn painful and unnecessary.

It didn't break Kerry's heart when she found out. Just disappointed and somewhat bothered into thinking, why not just end it now. Get it over with before it gets any worse.

What is the point to a life of nothing but pain? But then what is the point to a life that is nothing but easy? There is no answer. No right answer at least, any answer that is willing to be accepted and happy with by all.

You just play the hand you were dealt. Only Kerry chose to go the whole hog when playing her hand, she smoked the cigarette, she chewed the tooth-pick and still, she was always paying up at the end of it.

-

-

"You're stoned"

"Excuse me?" Kerry looked startled. Her expression telling Carter she wasn't just pissed and insulted, she was really pissed.

"I can tell"

"Are you joking Carter? You better be joking. This would be the time to tell me if you're joking, right now!" Her voice remained eerily calm, rising towards the end. A perfect rise of steam from the kettle of anger.

He grabbed her arm and gently manoeuvred into the trauma room. Kerry opened her mouth to show some form of anger but couldn't make any words appear, she was so angry she seriously considered flames spitting from her mouth.

"What the hell…" She looked around to see if anyone was watching, a few nurses glanced occasionally, using a patient chart as an excuse to listen nearby.

"Kerry…"

"No John, you are way out of line"

_And dinner's done._

"How dare you? Who the hell do you think you are? Before you go around making wild accusations, make sure to refer back to your mystery machine and dog. Maybe they can help you get the facts right"

She twisted out of his grip and started away.

"And what exactly are the facts Kerry?" He folded his arms in front of him, giving her his best _Just you dare_ face.

"The facts are… Fuck you Carter"

And she was gone.


	4. A Desert Island View

_Authors Notes: Going on a little trip boys and girls, hold my hand as I lead you into a world that I hope you never have to experience. Time will jump, so don't worry, you haven't missed anything; I just like to be random. Think of it as flashes and glimpses of the story. More mysterious and annoying that way I find.  
Also FEEDBACK! Feed the animal, please, feed me, feed me, feed me Seymour! _

_**A Desert Island View**_

_We passed upon the stairs…_

"Shit"

"Gee, thanks Kerry"

"Sorry… I... errr… I always thought that first thing I said would be…"

"Earth shattering? Thought Provoking? Surely not life changing?"

"I can dream can't I?"

"And instead I got shit… as always, but then that's all I got from you, shit, wasn't it Kerry?"

And that was it. Ships passing in the night. Nothing more nothing less. Carrying their great cargo of pain and heart-ache. As Kerry continued to carefully navigate the stairs she heard the voice shout above her.

"You do know I hate you right?" The same mass of cork screw curls and wavy hair framing that frankly frame worthy face. Holding the files close to her body, her face set like stone, angry and unforgiving.

"I knew it from the moment I met you" And suddenly the stone crumbles. And the puzzle becomes even more difficult.

Before she can make a comeback Kerry is moving again. Only her middle finger is waving goodbye to the woman. Waving goodbye to Kim with a mighty "Fuck you".

-

-

Kerry stumbled blindly into the stall of the bathroom. Shaking and sweating, almost fitting.

"Kerry! Kerry?" It was only then she realised she didn't close the stall door properly.

"Shit…" The curse seemed unnatural. She knew she was gonna crash out on the floor like a drunken squirrel any second. She knew she knew her box of secrets was about to be opened and aired. She knew it was all coming to an end.

"Oh my…" The voice left her like balloon losing air. She was about to say more, or at least attempt to as Kerry's head lolled backwards and smashed onto the tiled floor below, blood splattering like alternate art. Watching as Kerry's body went completely rigid and went into a violent seizure.

_Think clear. Think calm. Picnic's in Hyde Park, Symphony at the Royal Albert Hall… Think anything but Kerry._

Elizabeth had seen Kerry stumbling down the hallways like a dodgem car, bouncing off every obstacle in sight and now she lay fitting in front of her. A nameless nurse wondered in. Later Elizabeth would know she'd feel guilty about not knowing her name, for now she couldn't give a shit, she watched as the nurse's features flashed between professional and "Watch out, I'm gonna barf" and she was gone to assemble the troops.

-

-

"Cancer" The word choked out of Carter. He stood with his back to Kerry as she pulled scrubs on behind him.

Kerry remained silent. She had faced enough today, she could see faces swimming above her every time she blinked, flashing lights, prodding, poking, probing, delving into her life.

"And let's not even talk about the amount of drugs in your system" He was pissed. He was really pissed. And she was trying to sneak out the side door to leave him it. She stood from the other side of the door for a second, watching through the glass as Carter animatedly shouted and couldn't help but chuckle at it. And then she was gone.

_To Be Continued... Dun Dun Duuuuun!_


	5. Still

Authors Notes: So yeah, like I said it will be a bit trippy with time jumps and the sort. Basically I want this to be surreal and real to the point of frightening, which is expecting a bit much from a fan fic but there we go, got to let this creative shit out somewhere…. Blame the next part of watching Jerry Springer the Opera (go see it, go now…. Away with you)… And once again FEED ME!!! I need feedback! Feed the monster!

* * *

Still

_There's always hope. There's always hope. _

"I think I'm dead already"

"Do you need to be so melodramatic?"

Kerry dropped her head slightly, smiling at herself. Never one to be rational, never one to be whimsical, she was stuck in a limbo of madness. Drifting barely afloat and waiting for the storm that would end it all. The storm that would end this madness.  
Without lifting her head, she crushed the cigarette into the ashtray in front of her, reaching for another from the half empty carton.

"Well you were always the sensible one, always with the answers"

"That's why I do what I do, Kerry, one of us needs to be here when the world falls down"

And she was gone. Floating out of her life once more with that annoying accuracy.  
She was never really there though. Just a side effect. Of what Kerry couldn't be sure, the weed or the cancer, but Kim was never really there. Just a shadow of a thought of a feeling.

Stubbing out that cigarette, there was only one thing left to do. Get stoned. Reaching for the bag and tobacco, she set about rolling herself once more into somewhere, anywhere but there.

-

-

Staring at the ceiling, Carter couldn't believe he was still awake. Yet he couldn't believe he had considered sleep. Every time he closed his eyes Kerry was seizing in front of him.  
He shook his head and smiled, she had even managed to sneak off mid Carter rant.

_Sneaky bitch_

Rolling over, he stared at the alarm clock. Looking for something he knew he could never get there, all he got was that it was three in the morning. All he wanted was for it, for anybody to tell him it was all going to be okay. And the world wasn't as fucked up as he worried it was. Everything he knew, he understood had been ripped in half and replaced with darker replicas.

It was all so wrong. And he didn't know what hurt more, the fact the world could be this dark, or the fact he was awake.

-

-

"Without treatment, you know you won't last long" The doctor pushed his glasses back up his nose. Trying his best to focus on Kerry, but finding his mind wondering back to his daughter and how dentist's sleep at night charging $1000 for invisible braces.

"I know that, but you know the story, a good few months, a bad year… There isn't much fight left in me…"

"There isn't much of anything left Kerry. Not just as your doctor but as your friend, you're not yourself and I don't want to see this happen"

She ran a tried hand wearily through her hair, in some vain attempt to show her frustration at all of this. The inconvenience of it all, her plans thrown away so she could die.

"Listen to him Kerry" Kim was back.

"Dave… please… As a friend" Kerry was pleading for own right to die.

"It's your choice Kerry at the end of the day; I can't stop you, short of placing a plea of mental incapacitation…"

"And your certainly not far off Kerry" Kim was purring into her eye, a ghost of the past. Of the present. But certainly not the future.

Dave was up now, extending his hand to Kerry who shook it lightly.

"By the way, $1000 for braces is robbery"

"Thank you!" He chuckled slightly at her memory. It had seemed weeks since their conversation on it, but she still remembered. He wondered if in a few weeks he'd remember this. He knew he would. He knew he would remember it as they lowered her body into the ground.

"Goodbye Kerry… Good luck"

She could have punched him, instead she smiled.

_Good luck dying._

-

-

"How I feel it isn't how you will" And enter stage right, Kim once more.

"Had cancer recently have you?" Kerry wasn't in the mood, she never was honestly.

"Fuck you, you know what I'm talking about" Apparently Kim wasn't in the mood either; even hallucinations have a right to opinion.

"No one can tell you how this feels, what you're going through. No one can tell you how to see this world. No one can tell you how to die"

"Give it up Kim, you're even more annoying as a fucking hallucination than in life, who knew it was possible!?" A small explosion seemed to happen in Kerry with each word, sending her further and further towards the floor.

The night had started as usual as it could for Kerry. The normal near collapse of homecoming, the aggravating need to eat but the thought of throwing up was something she wasn't looking forward to. It was routine for food to get halfway down and decide that up was amore attractive option these days.  
It had been almost a week since her seizure in the ER, a week full of looks from the staff, from Carter. So like she did every night, she crawled home to smoke weed and pass out.

"Does it stop the pain?" The words were perfectly formed on her lips. Like ice quietly shattering to the ground. Like snow falling almost. Her face just inches from Kerry's face studying it intently.

"No, you know that, you're part of me, you must feel it"

"Am I a part of you?" Kim was moving now, sweeping around the room touching and generally nosing around.

"I am so not in the mood for this head fuck, this is bullshit"

"You're in the driving seat Kerry, you're in control. Stop this"

_Stop this. Stop this. End it now. Before it really starts._

_Feed the monster, give me feedback please.... To Be CONTINUED....­_


	6. Slow Motion

Author's notes: Will continue to confuse and make all craptacular…. Again apologies for length of gaps between chapters, the only times I remember I'm writing this, I'm generally in a state not compatible with meaningful and comprehendible. Like now for instance, so apologies if the following chapter is complete bollocks, I'm completely out of my tree right now…. Thanks for the feedback and please continue to feed the monster, more feedback please! Cheers…

Slow Motion

Kerry was fucking with fate. She was pulling the carpet out from under its feet and beating it around the head with a pillow. She was currently darting in and out of traffic at speeds nearing what she believed to be breaking the sound barrier.

Her foot wedged perfectly flat against the gas peddle, she wanted to see if someone could be dying of cancer after a life of fighting it, complete with a spiralling addiction problem that may or may not result in her visions of her ex-lover that she is currently haunted by, and still be in a car accident. That fate can dish it all out onto one person's plate and quite happily fill it to spilling point and still dish more and more out. As if fate was saying:

"You maybe in every possible form of pain, but while you're still alive and breathing, we will continue to fuck with you"

Within seconds of her cat and mouse game in the traffic, she found herself being treated to the melodic sounds of car horns and the sounds of tyres screeching as her car sped towards an oncoming lorry.

"Fuck" was all she managed to muster as she closed her eyes and braced for impact, knowing that fate never gives you a day off, it gives waits a few minutes longer before coming in for the kill. Drifting away in the dark, she prayed her death would be quicker than the one cancer was treating her to.

Pure white knuckles gripped the steering wheel. Almost like a pair of skeletal hands gripping the wheel. Only this wasn't, this was Kerry, gripping the wheel, looking up to see the grill from the front of a lorry staring her in the face through the windshield.

She couldn't quite grasp the fact that she was getting out of the car, or that she was looking at a huge cargo lorry about ½ a centimetre from the front of her car.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

_Shit! Driver… Run!_

It took Kerry a few moments that obviously running wasn't the best of ideas and that sexual favours were perhaps a little out of the question. Instead she settled for an outburst the size of a small volcano.

"You asshole!" She flung her small body into his, pushing it backwards with venom, beating him back with her fists.  
"You could have killed someone!"  
He was too stunned to argue or say anything even, the sight of this small red headed woman screaming at him like a banshee that's just stubbed it's toe, he simply backed off, got back in the cab and waited for her to stop yelling and get in her car and leave.

Ten minutes later he was still watching Kerry rant and rave at him through the windscreen, only he was listening to David Bowie instead of her high pitched wailing that was enough to kill every dolphin within a mile radius. He could vaguely make out a few fucks and a few pricks that were being aimed at him like an arrow from a particularly poisonous bow from Kerry's mouth.  
By the time she was back in her car and driving away, she was crying. At what she wasn't sure but it didn't stop her from sobbing all the way home, swiping away the tears as she carefully navigated home.

Abby was following Carter around like he had attached an invisible dog lead. Every time he looked up, there she was in all her annoying glory.

She was leaning against the desk opposite from Carter filling in a chart, licking her lips and rolling her head back in an attempt to get her hair out of her face in a "I'm worth it" kinda way.

_Oh dear God, is she trying to be sexy? Oh stop now woman, you look like you're having a stroke_

He was desperately trying to ignore her and concentrate on the chart in front of him but she was distracting for all the wrong reasons.  
She was desperately trying every subtle thing to make Carter, hell anyone look at her and was failing miserably, instead looking like she had some sort of nervous tick every time she flicked her hair back.

Luka came striding down the ER, his features twisted into some sort of dream like state.  
As if to say "Yes I know I'm gorgeous, feel free to look at me" he parked himself next to Abby, reaching for a phone behind the desk.  
He studied her quickly.

"You alright Abby?"

"Just fine Luka" Was she purring?

"You sure, you look cold or… something" Now he was confused, a second ago her chest was puffed out like a bird in mating season with her cheeks sucked in, trying to look, well somewhat worldly and ending up looking practically deranged.

"Nope, just fine" That was enough for her, mission get sex was over and she disappeared into the lounge with a glowing red face.

"She's odd" Carter couldn't help but laugh at Luka, his innocence was only overshadowed by just how threatening he looked. Like a puppy just before it mauls your face off.

The laughing was cut short with the grand entrance of Kerry falling through the ambulance bay doors.  
Luka was the first to move into action, bending to pick her up only to be rewarded with a mighty thwack around the head with her crutch.  
"Jesus Kerry I was only trying to help" Luka rubbed his head as he spoke giving Kerry his best insulted look.  
"You wanna help Luka, you can fuck off" Luka was shocked. Not only had he been assaulted with a walking aid, he was now being told to fuck off by the person he least expected to be told to fuck off by.  
Pulling herself to her feet, Kerry casually dusted herself off and attempted to walk away with some dignity, as much dignity you can muster whilst being completely high and rolling around on the floor with a Croatian.

Carter was now moving into action, with cat like readiness in case the crutch was heading in his direction.

"Kerry"

"Oh Christ"

"Kerry!" He grabbed her by the elbow.

"Get off Carter"

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Catching a bus Einstein"

"Well then you'll leave me no choice" She looked puzzled, what on earth was he waffling on about?

"Jerry, call security and get Romano" She had him by the arm now.

"Jerry! Touch the phone and die, no security, no Romano"

Jerry, with telephone receiver in hand now looked considerably confused.  
"Jerry, I'm your boss, use the phone and lose your job" Kerry gave her best death glare, watching as he placed the phone back down.

Carter was dragging her in the lounge now.  
"Go home, sober up"

"How about you go home and you go away"

"I've had enough of this shit, who the hell do you think you are?"

"Kerry Weaver, and you?" He would have laughed if he didn't feel like crying.

So that's exactly what he did. He cried.

+  
To Be Continued… Feed the monster give me feedback….


	7. Easy Come, Easy Go

Authors Notes: Written post "Jerry Springer The Opera" experience where David Soul winked at me and freaked me out, so using that as a fuel for the random and the odd for the next instalment. Please continue to review, I'm not gonna know its shit until you tell me. And yes I did re-use a line from one of my unfinished fic's License to Heal.  
Warning: Drugs were involved in the creation of this story… Blah….  
Disclaimer Update: It's still not mine; if I owned ER I would certainly not be here writing this right now, I'd be writing a story line where Abby got fired out of a cannon never to be heard of again… So with that in mind, I'm only borrowing ER.

_Easy Come, Easy Go_

The sight of John Carter crying was enough to put Kerry off watching the Hallmark Channel for a life time.

"Carter…"

_Oh for God's sake_

"Carter" She refused to call him John, refused to let him know that part of her cared enough to use his real name.

"Carter stop it" Now she was really going for the cold hearted bitch she was known for being.

He couldn't stop. It was as though she had pulled down a dam inside of him, it was rushing through his entire body, flooding his consciousness. He felt his body slowly curl into himself and slide slowly to the floor.  
"Get up Carter" Kerry still hadn't moved from where she was stood rooted to the spot in a mixture of fear and drugs. To her, Carter looked slightly like a tree frog, curled ready to spring up and leap away to the admit desk. But she also didn't want to move for fear of breaking the scene, of making this something other than what it was. If she moved, she became involved in the situation, she became a character, if she stayed it was Carter's, all his own story unfolding, she was merely watching.  
His insides were beginning to stir up like the sea bed. He could feel the waves swirling everything into a frenzy. Closing his eyes he hoped it would stop.  
Watching his own family descend into a drugs hell had been enough for Carter, feeling himself descend the same way had been inevitable, but watching Kerry descend was like finding out Big Bird was just a suit. It wasn't right. Everything you had believed to be one thing was actually something else entirely. Kerry was Big Bird. Not literally, despite just reaching the 5 foot mark and beyond, she certainly wasn't feathered and she certainly wasn't yellow.

Everything he had believed Kerry Weaver to be was a lie. To find out she was human and capable of everything humans can do was mind numbing. It was too painful to think about. So instead he cried. He cried until he began to retch. As he looked up through a fog of tears and vomit, he searched for Kerry Weaver, the Kerry Weaver he knew, the Kerry Weaver he secretly loved, only to see what had replaced her look back with a curious disgust. He was looking for help. And she simply walked out the door leaving Carter to continue to vomit on the floor.

-

Sitting in the dark, Kerry wondered what she had turned into.

Monsters walk among us daily, we don't know everybody's lives, we cross paths with so many different people in this life; we simply exist in the lives of others for a fleeting moment. But for that fleeting moment, you could be associated with a number of different monsters. Walking down the street, you don't know who you've just passed by, what people have experienced, what they haven't. You only know that moment, and even then to grab it is a rarity. It's forgotten before you can register it.  
Did people wonder what her life was when they passed her? Naturally, people would react with the ever so obvious "Why the crutch?" but did they look further? Could they see past the limp and into the darkened eyes and pale skin?

She believed not. And for some reason, she felt secure knowing that she only knew the truth. That alone she was a monster.

-

Kerry had managed to avoid Carter for an entire week since his breakdown in the lounge. She found this incredibly easy, her job meant she did have an excuse to not be seen for days on end, hidden under piles of paper work, only to surface for patients and hide behind charts and curtains every time Carter threatened to grace her presence.

This time she was trying unsuccessfully to hide behind an IV Pole.

He hadn't noticed her yet, but she was being poked in the eye by the stand.

She fiddled with the bag as though the life of her patient depended on it, despite it being a drunk student who was highly enjoying himself watching the nurses walking by, as she leant in closer to the pole, watching as Carter walked past, she discovered the student was also having fun watching Kerry as he pinched her ass.

"Do that again and I'll ram this pole up your ass" The student that had been chuckling quite happily to him-self was suddenly frightened for his life and his ass.

"Kerry can you give me a hand?" It was Mark, covered in a blood soaked paper smock.

The trauma was less than smooth. The patient was a young woman that had been side swiped by a lorry while crossing a road. Half of her face was missing, as was most of the left side of her body. She still had vitals when the crew had rolled her in, somewhat of a miracle. It hadn't lasted long, they had still tried their best to bring her back, to what sort of life, they were unsure of. But still the woman had died. Kerry remained in the room with her. From one side of the room, you would have no idea why she was there; she looked perfectly healthy apart from the un-natural shade of grey her skin was taking on. But on the other side of the room it was a whole other story. And Kerry didn't want to leave. Because she saw her whole life laying there on the gurney. On one side: Kerry Weaver, Doctor and bitch. On the other side: dying of cancer with a drug problem.

-

"Can you feel the butterflies?"

"Oh God I thought you were gone" Kim was back, sweeping around the room in her airless grace. Wearing that blue cardigan Kerry had found herself having a small love affair with, the same one that Kerry never wore again after that morning when she went to get the paper and the mail and came back inside the house with police.

"Just because you can't see me…"

"Doesn't mean you're not annoying" Kerry's hand had been permanently attached to a glass since she had found herself at home, which she had repeatedly filled with vodka, sometimes whisky depending on the way her eyes focused, if they were quick to focus then she topped up with whisky, if everything looked like a grey streaked blob, then she went with the vodka. As she spoke, she gulped from a hefty glass of vodka.

"Taking up more addictions?"

"No, restarting old ones"

Kim was eyeing a photo of a small girl, her face cast away from the camera, unawares of being watched, just happily running down a grass hill, her yellow checked dress flapping against her knees in the wind, just below white knee high socks. Her hair pulled back and fastened with a ribbon, leaving the dark mass of curly hair bouncing as she ran. The girl was merely captured in a moment of pure child like happiness. Uncaring, just running in the sunlight towards whatever dreams lay ahead of her.

"What happened to her?"

Kerry was on her feet now, moving towards looking at the photo, the photo she avoided looking at if she could, but loved more than the world.  
"She became a monster" The answer was short and pure with heart breaking truth. The little girl grew up and found the world to be something she couldn't handle. The fact the world could be evil was too much. And so she broke. Everything about her crumbled into what she was today, a bitter dying old woman.

-

The pain was unbearable. Spreading through her body like wild fire. She had been merrily rolling along towards the trauma rooms when the pain had started stabbing. She found herself leaning against the wall, holding her breast as the pain pumped through, spreading along her chest. Gasping for breath she felt her legs begin to crumple, only one arm holding her against the wall as she doubled into herself.

"Kerry?" It was Romano "Kerry where's the pain?" Robert wasn't a man who was easily fooled into caring, but the sight of Kerry gasping for breath, doubled over was enough to break his cold hearted spirit.

"…Ch… Chest" It was too much, Kerry was on the floor, strangling for breath.  
"Oh my God…"  
Everything seemed to turn quiet. She could see their lips moving, Mark hovering above, Romano holding her hand and talking but there was no sound. Only an eerie silence that seemed to stretch to infinity. The last thing she saw before the world faded away was Romano reaching out to brush the hair from her face and she felt a pang of guilt as she thought to herself "There is some good".

-

To be continued…. Review!


	8. Loosing All Control

Authors Notes: Hopefully the last chapter of this bollocks blame the following on watching and reading Party Monster one too many times. I know many people have been slightly confused and I'm glad for that, that's what I intended, isn't it wonderful when you have to think? Please excuse any bouts of weirdness, my landlady is talking about Charlie Dimmock's nipples, it's scary.

Losing All Control

Everything is so quiet. Abnormally quiet. As though a word would break everything in existence. The walls of peace would crumble at your feet should the smallest of syllables be uttered, should someone dare to even breathe loudly then the world would explode into thousands upon thousands of pieces.

No one was daring enough to try, to see if they held the world in their grasp and could drop it and end it all.  
It was only a second of silence, a second, a moment in passing, but it seemed like eternity, it seemed to stretch to infinity and back on wide wings.

The snow was falling again outside, tumbling through the air and dancing to the ground. No one would notice though, only when they left the ER and walked into a flurry of snow four foot high would they notice. For now they were in the second of silence. Everything frozen as though a cold snap had sneaked through.  
Abby with the phone dropped to her chest at the admit desk as she strained to figure out where Carter was running to, Carter running through the ER on his way to get to Kerry, Romano with Kerry in his arms like a rag doll running through the trauma doors, Mark following behind adjusting his stethoscope, Luka lifting his head as Mark called his name, Haleh rushing for the code cart, Yosh and Lily grabbing supplies as Romano barked at them. For that second, everyone was doing something. And for that second, it was all Kerry.

-

-

"Are you dead yet?" Kerry's head was swimming in a thick bog, above her she saw blurs of the doctors, of her colleagues, but clearly by her side was Kim.

"No" it croaked from her, an unnatural swan song.

"Kerry" It was Romano "Try not to talk"

"No" She repeated herself again and again, until somehow she found the power in her lifeless limbs to push herself up and slip off the gurney.  
Romano was the first to protest, gently urging her to get back on the gurney, to let them help her, but Kerry had backed herself up in the corner, holding onto the wall unit for support.

"No more, please" She was gasping, the breath seeping out of her like an old balloon.

"Kerry…?" Romano was puzzled, Mark not far behind.

The sight of Kerry Weaver before them, trousers hanging off her tiny fragile form, her shirt gaping open, a few wires still attached to her shivering chest, was simply shocking for their minds. Any other time, any other place, the sight of Kerry Weaver flashing her breasts from behind a blood red bra would have been simply amazing to behold. The sight of her perfectly trim body, fit and healthy, ample breasts, usually had the effect of melting for the beholder. It was a body that you could melt in, loose yourself thoroughly and hide in if you wished. It was only as you travelled further down her body, to the intricate scars that ran like train tracks along her thigh and hip and down the length of her leg did you realise why you had never imagined Kerry would look like this. That perhaps she was just a woman after all.

But for now, Kerry cowered, shaking in the corner of the trauma room, begging for her life, or rather her right to die.  
"I'm dying" It was delivered simply and short. Like today's specials on a menu.

Romano opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off, raising her hand slowly.

"I have cancer and I have a DNR" She felt her lungs being squeezed in her rib cage like a bird in the fist of an angry child.

"Let us help you" Kerry would never have believed this was coming from Mark if she wasn't watching it tumbling from his mouth. "Please?"

"You have no idea what this is like, I can't even begin to find the words, I don't think they exist" She scanned the room of the faces she was quickly forgetting, each one blurring into the person next to them. She realised then, she knew nothing of their lives, of their pain. "I just want this to end now, I'm just so tired"

Her body finally gave up the fight to stay standing, her knees snapping down like the rug was pulled from under her. She fell to the floor in a sobbing mess. It was Romano who would come and kneel on the floor next to her. It was Romano who gathered her into his arms and held her as she cried.  
As she let the world know about the injustice of it all. How her body had betrayed her.

No one would move no one would even talk about this afterwards; it would be something that you could only share in should you have had the unfortunate pleasure of watching a woman crumble before you.  
It would be a while before Kerry would stop sobbing and the pain would begin to ebb, it would be a while before Kerry would eventually fail to move and a while before Romano would finally lift her in his arms back on the gurney and watch as the life drained from her. But it would be the sight of Kim that Kerry would last see, the sight of Kim walking away through the trauma doors and disappearing into nothingness as Kerry's world finally faded to black.

-

-

"Breathing used to be so simple" Carter smiled as Kerry spoke.

She lay on a hospital bed. _Her death bed._ Hooked to a variety of bleeping monitors, she drifted in and out of consciousness waiting to die.

Her thoughts muddled, she could see herself drinking in a bar, the smoke rising around her and clouding her vision, her hand gripping a martini, her smile hiding behind a look of peace. The music was just…well it was just. It fitted the situation perfectly and she could feel the darkness of night creeping into every fibre of her being, she was electrically awake with everything the night had to give. The coldness that swept across her body was shown only with the visible goose skin that she ignored; she was far to into the moment to believe that coldness could interrupt everything she existed as in that second. Everyone there moved together with a synchronicity that only existed in drug fuelled hazes, everything slow and perfectly balanced. Everything making sense.

She was still sat in the bar as Carter spoke. He seemed to be crossing the barrier of all existence and standing by her, dressed casually in her dream like finale.

"You're not cold" It was a statement, a fact that he dealt while raising a hand and pointing at Kerry drink, ordering the same.

"I'm so awake" She smiled as she spoke and Carter could see the peace that had settled behind her troubled eyes.

In the hospital room, Carter noticed the monitors change; he noticed the life starting to leave her. He continued to sit, reaching for her hand, determined to be there until the end. He didn't want her to be alone.

"Is the end of the world like going to sleep?" Carter, now with a drink turned around, leaning his back against the bar to watch Kerry.

"I don't know, I hope so… I'd like to think so. I've never seen the world end"

"I've seen it end" Kerry looked at him now.

"Then why ask?" He shrugged.

"What did it look like?" She placed her martini down now, leaning forward onto the bar, resting her face in her hands, her elbows propped up under her.

"Like your eyes" She was puzzled now. She could faintly hear the monitors from the hospital room.

"My eyes?"

"Everything in this world and everything in this existence is so much"

"And death?"

"Death is the mirrors reflection"

In her world in her bar with Carter, Kerry gasped as the pain spread through her breast again, creeping from behind her chest. Her heart fluttering like a caged butterfly attempting to take off over and over until battered, it floats to the ground, shaking and twitching as death set in.

"Should I… Should I be afraid?" Kerry grasped for Carter's hand not only in the bar but the hospital room, causing Carter to sit upright, grasping forward at a broken straw as it collapsed in on itself.

"You're leaving me now"

She smiled softly, the edges of her lips curling into her porcelain face.

"I already left"

-

-

The End.


End file.
